Burn this Town
by Rorylie
Summary: When Dean thinks Jaimie is alseep, he says things that set her world on fire.


"And the way she looked  
Was way beyond compare  
So how could I dance with another,  
Oh, when I saw her standing there"

-The Beatles

Dean should have left as soon as he walked in and saw Jaimie, wearing a ridiculously tiny sequined back thing, tottering around on those damn heels of hers. Her hair was curled and pulled back, a few pieces spilling down to her shoulders. She looked up and saw him, her smile faltering, never quite reaching her eyes. Not that anyone noticed but him, her boyfriend definitely didn't notice, he was too busy staring at the cocktail waitress' big plastic tits to even look at Jaimie.

Dean walked over the bar, nodding at the bartender and ordering a drink. Ty joined him, leaning against the bar and studying his friend.

"Happy birthday," Dean muttered.

"Thanks," Ty said with a nod. "You okay?"

Dean drained the glass of tequila and slammed it on the bar, nodding for another drink. "Great."

"You knew she was gonna be here," Ty noted.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean watched Jaimie lifting her own drink to her lips, some girly, pink, fizzy cocktail

"Everyone sees the way you look at her," Ty sighed.

Dean shook his head. "She doesn't see it. Her boyfriend doesn't see it." Dean pushed away from the bar. "It's your birthday, man, go find your wife and celebrate."

888888888888

Dean ended up at the bar again, chatting up a pretty little redhead with an amazing set of tits. The girl was smart, and funny, and hot as hell, she was pretty much perfect. She just wasn't Jaimie.

Jaimie was leaning in towards Scott, laughing at something he said, something Dean was sure probably wasn't even funny.

He tore his attention away from her, turning back to the girl next to him.

"You wanna get out of here?" she asked.

"Can't," he answered. "It's my buddy's birthday."

The redhead smiled. "You've been ignoring him all night."

Dean shook his head. "I'm a crappy friend. You're so pretty you keep distracting me."

"I don't think I'm the one who's distracting you," she murmured, fingers drifting playfully over his arm. "Who's the girl?"

"Just somebody I work with," he shrugged.

"Right," she said. "I was born at night, but not last night."

He chuckled. "You didn't really strike me as a cheesy line kind of girl."

"I don't think you've paid enough attention to me to know what kind of girl I am."

"If I'm such a lousy date," he countered, "why are you still sitting there?"

"Because you're pretty cute," she answered. "And you're buying."

"Is that a hint, darlin'?" he asked with a grin.

She shook her glass. "My drink is pretty low."

He waved the bartender over. "Another drink for the lovely lady."

They both watched Jaimie made her way to the back of the room.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" the woman asked.

He shrugged, draining another glass of tequila. "She and I are all talked out."

"Pretty cowardly for a big strong man like you," she said. "I'm gonna go," she continued, pushing a business card towards him. "If you ever get tired of blondie, give me a call. We could have some fun."

88888888888

He cornered Jaimie in the hallway at the back of the bar when she came out of the bathroom. He backed her into the wall, hands skimming her body.

"Nice dress," he murmured.

"Scott says I look like a disco ball," she sighed.

"Scott's a moron," he said, lips pressing against her neck.

"What happened to your friend?" she asked, one leg wrapped around his, drawing him closer.

He shrugged. "She found something more interesting to do," he said, hands running up her thighs, pushing her already short skirt higher up.

"She was hot," Jaimie said.

"You're hotter," he breathed against her skin.

"What are we doing?" she asked. "We can't do this here."

He grinned at her. "Sure we can."

She shook her head. "Scott's right outside."

"That's what makes it fun."

"No," she said firmly, pushing against his chest. "Not here. Later. I'll come by later."

"Promise," he asked.

She nodded, cupping his face with her hands. "I'll be there."

8888888888

She showed up as promised, still wearing her tiny little dress. He ripped the zipper pulling it off of her, ripping the lacy little barely there panties she had on under it. There was no foreplay, just the two of them, bodies melding together against his wall, on the floor, in his bed.

She curled up in his arms, drifting off to sleep as he brushed her hair off of her face, fingers combing through it slowly. He pressed a kiss softly to her forehead, studying her before sinking down next to her, lips pressed to her ear.

"You're too much for me to take," he whispered. "Sometimes everything I feel for you, it burns to hot in my chest in my chest, sweetheart, that it feels like I can't breathe when I'm looking at you, it feels like it's going to burn me right up. I know I'll probably never have you, not really, not all of you, but I'm learning to settle for what I can get, because something, some little piece of you, any little piece of you, I'll take it. It's better than nothing."

She waited until his breathing slowed and evened out to slowly open her eyes, biting down on her lip as she stared at him in the darkness.

888888888888

Jaimie was gone when he woke up, which wasn't new or really unexpected. He didn't see her again until she showed up at work.

"Where's Carter?" she asked, glancing around.

"He and Ty went to go meet with his contact," Dean muttered. "Won't ever even know you're late."

She shrugged. "I had something to take care of."

"Like explaining to your little boyfriend where you were all night?"

She sighed. "Don't do that. Not today."

"Rough morning?" he asked.

She stared at the ground, stubbing the floor with her shoe. "I broke up with Scott," she said softly.

"What did he do this time? Want to know your middle name?"

She ran a hand through her hair, turning around like she couldn't stand to look at him for one more second. "How do you do that?" she demanded. "How do you say things like you said to me last night and then act like this? And how the hell am I ever supposed to know which one is real?"

"Last night," he said, staring at the back of her head like the answers to every question he'd ever had were there.

"Sorry if I ruined your big plan to only be nice to me when I'm sleeping."

"That why you broke up with Scott?" he asked.

"My whole life," she said quietly, "no one ever said anything like any of that to me."

"Not Scott?"

"Not anyone," she answered.

"You wanna know why I can't say stuff like that unless I think you're sleeping?" he pressed.

"I already know," she muttered.

"See, that," he said, pointing at her. "That's it. I never know if I'm allowed to be nice to you, if I can be honest when we're talking."

"Don't put your bullshit on me," she muttered. "You play all these games with me, you're nice one minute and you're a bastard the next so you don't get to tell me it's my fault that I don't know what's real, that I don't know what to believe. You play with my head."

He sighed. "It's nobody's fault, or, I don't know, it's everybody's fault. It's my fault. I'm never gonna be your perfect boyfriend, Jaimie, so if that's what you want, what you need, you better call Scott and make nice."

She shook her head. "The perfect boyfriend isn't perfect either."

He closed the space between them, moving behind her, one hand resting on her hip. She looked down at his hand and then up at him.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Was it true, what you said? About this thing between us feeling like it's burning inside of you?"

He nodded slowly.

"I want someone who looks at me and thinks things like that," she said softly.

"What do you think when you look at me?" he pressed.

She swallowed. "Of how sacred I am of how much I want you."

He spun her around, body pressing against hers as he kissed her.

"Show me," he said, fingers tangling in her hair. "Show me how much you want me, I'll show you how much I want you, and we'll burn this place to ground."

She opened her mouth to respond when the door behind them opened and she pushed away from him, running a hand through her hair and trying to steady her breathing.

"You're going with Ty," Carter said, pointing at Dean. "He'll explain everything you need to know." He turned to Jaimie. "I need you to work on the cover."

She nodded.

"Later," Dean growled into her ear as he walked by her.

"Later," she agreed.


End file.
